


Louder Than Words

by Shaded Mazoku (Ashkaztra)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 5+1 Things, Developing Relationship, M/M, Pre-Slash, Wraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2121519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashkaztra/pseuds/Shaded%20Mazoku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actions speak louder than words. A story of trust and of Hive. </p><p>5 + 1 fic, kind of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Louder Than Words

The first time it happens, John is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, exhausted after what seems like an eternity of battle and action. They’re on the Daedalus, and he drags himself to a bedroom, crawling into the cot with what feels like the last of his strength. He is dirty and bruised, covered in scrapes and soot, but sleep is first priority. 

In his muddled state, he almost doesn't notice when the mattress dips beneath a new weight, and it takes him embarrassingly long to turn over and see what is going on. 

There is still an almost unending list of things he doesn't know about Wraith, so it shouldn't surprise him so much that they manage to do things that throw him off, but for all the time he’s known Todd, and for all that they’re something almost like friends these days, there has been nothing to make John expect to find the Wraith in his bed. 

Todd is already asleep, though, curled around a pillow, his breathing so slow he almost looks dead, and John is far too tired and exhausted to deal with it right now. Instead, he grabs the other pillow and shoves it under his head, deciding that everything that isn't sleep can wait. 

Despite the now-cramped conditions and the whole surprise Wraith thing, John is asleep almost as soon as he closes his eyes. 

When he wakes again, Todd is nowhere to be found and John isn't at all certain he didn't hallucinate the whole thing. 

The second time it happens, it’s definitely no hallucination. 

They’re watching Back to the Future, because they have time to kill and John loves how genuinely confused pop culture makes Todd. It’s not often he gets to see the ancient Wraith completely out of it and he relishes it when it happens. Besides, he likes Back to the Future, no matter what Rodney says. 

They’re on the floor, which had seemed like a good idea until John remembered he’s not a kid any more, but he doesn't feel like moving and there isn't really a better way for them both to watch the monitor. 

John might have been worried about having Todd behind him once, uneasy with not being able to keep an eye on him, but he isn't really concerned with that any more. He’s confident Todd isn't planning to kill him and the laptop is in front of them so he’s not messing about with the Atlantis network, and that’s pretty much the only concerns John has.

He doesn't think much about where Todd is at all until the Wraith leans forward and rests his forehead against John’s shoulder, his breathing slowing noticeably. 

John freezes in place momentarily, suddenly all too aware that there is a Wraith sleeping against him. It’s not exactly surprising that Todd is exhausted; he never seems to sleep much at all while on Atlantis, but John didn't expect to be used as a pillow. 

He figures Todd really must be exhausted to sleep like that. His shoulder is hardly a comfortable pillow. Sighing, he shifts a little and turns his attention back to the movie. He could easily have pulled away but it seems wrong, somehow. Like it’d be a dick move. Instead he stays still through the movie and most of the sequel, even if it is rather uncomfortable to sit like that. 

Thankfully, Todd stirs before it becomes actually painful, lifting his head and sitting up properly. He offers no explanation at all, but then, John wasn't expecting one. Explanations from Todd are rare at the best of time. He does give his thanks, though, even if it isn't exactly verbal. Wraith communication is much more than that, and sometimes it worries John how well he reads it. 

“Find a bed next time,” John tells him, but there is no real ire in his voice. 

He gets his revenge by making Todd sit through Little Shop of Horrors next. His confusion is palpable. 

The third time, John is significantly less surprised than the previous two. This might be because he is a little drunk. 

Not enough to be considered out of it in any way, but drunk enough to have that mellow buzz where everything seems softer and happier. He likes that buzz. He’s pretty sure Todd isn't drunk, just being his usual strange Wraith self, simply because Wraith don't really get drunk. They're either sober or passed out. Besides, by now, John has noticed that Todd acts very different with him than he does with other people. 

So when Todd unceremoniously drapes himself over John on the bed, all John does is give a little oof as he’s effectively pinned. Todd is much heavier than he looks. 

“Not what I meant when I told you to find a bed,” he says, but he leans back into the pillows and chuckles to himself. He’s pretty sure that if he told Todd to stop sleeping on him, he would, but he’s not quite willing to do that. It’s a weird thing he has with the Wraith, but it’s not a bad one. 

Not a bad one at all. Todd’s weight might be holding him in place, but there is something comforting about how heavy and solid he feels against John; he is something incredibly real in world of intangibles. He doesn't mind playing personal heater in return. 

The fourth time, John starts it, because they've come back from a pretty horrible mission and John is one big bruise, his arm sprained and his muscles sore, and Todd has been shot several times and was on fire at one point. They both seem to need it, so John takes Todd back to his room and makes a pillow nest on the floor, where there is more room than in his bed.  
He pulls Todd in with him and smiles as the Wraith makes no effort to resist at all, just leans into John and curls around him like a living blanket. John finds himself with his hand buried in Todd’s hair, amazed at how soft it is, and falls asleep playing with it, Todd’s breath on his neck. 

When they wake, John feels much better, even if his body is protesting from sleeping on the floor. 

The fifth time, John wakes with Todd leaned against him. They’re in the infirmary on Atlantis and John is in one of the beds, having hit his head badly in a cave-in. Todd is sitting at his side, arms crossed at John’s side, his head halfway in John’s lap. He stays still for a moment, as to make sure John is actually awake, and then gets to his feet and leaves, abruptly. 

John watches him go, feeling like he’s missing something, but he he can’t quite put his finger on what. 

When Todd keeps avoiding him, John decides he needs to get to the bottom of this thing at last. The problem is that when Todd doesn't want to be found, he is pretty much impossible to track down. His psychic abilities sees to that. 

It’s almost enough to make John give up, even if he is normally not easily discouraged, but then he gets a break in form of the strange head scientist of Todd’s Hive, who approaches him looking decidedly unhappy. 

“You are both ridiculous,” the scientist tells him pointedly. “And the Commander is giving me a headache. You realise that Wraith only truly sleep when they feel safe, yes?” 

Nodding, John tries to ignore the massive Wraith looming behind the scientist. “I kind of guessed, yeah.” 

The scientist makes a dismissive sound. “Safe to Wraith is not about places. It is about Hive. The Commander considers you part of our Hive.”

“So he’s upset because I don’t get that?” John asks, feeling a little out of his depth. 

“No. He is upset because you keep getting injured and it reminds him that you are human. It makes him uncomfortably aware of your mortality.” 

“Oh.” John isn't sure what to say to that. 

The scientist shakes his head, his elaborate braids barely moving. “Indeed. He is lurking in the old desalination facility. Go talk to him before I have to commit treason.” He pauses. “Well, more treason than I am already committing by telling you this.” 

He turns and walks away, his companion trailing behind him as always. 

John doesn't quite know what to make of that encounter, but it’s worth giving it a try. The old desalination facility is no longer in use, not after they got the newer one powered, and it’s hard to access unless you know what you’re doing. John does, though, and he makes his way down without too much issue. Part of the tank is the same reinforced glass as the windows of Atlantis and the water outside filters any light that comes down naturally, giving the room a dull glow. 

Todd is sitting near the glass wall, staring into the vast depths, but John is pretty sure he is aware of his presence. He has yet to sneak up on a Wraith effectively. He isn't making any move to leave, though, so John goes and sits next to him. 

The water is a deep, dark greenish blue, and if John stares into it long enough, he swears he can see animals moving in the distance. 

He has no idea where to even start talking, not really. This is the sort of thing he doesn't talk about, doesn't know how to deal with, and it gnaws at him, because Todd’s presence is heavy in the room and he’s been looking for him so long. Now that he has him there, he has no idea what to say. 

But Wraith communication is not only verbal. 

The sixth time, John takes Todd’s hand in his, a move he knows could possibly go very wrong, and holds it against his chest, hoping his actions speak better than his words, words which has long since dried up in his mouth. He leans his weight into Todd, trusting him to hold him up, draping himself over him and closing his eyes.

He is safe.


End file.
